Everything fell into place. That was why they had kept Mary Beth in the surveillance room when everyone else had been reassigned. They didn’t want her to follow Drago if he left. They wanted her as a witness to his death.”
“How does this thing with Granville impact what we have going?” Marie asked.
“The SS will have a ‘shoot on sight’ order out on Drago. I don’t know how he survived in prison this long. They must have kept him segregated for this very reason.”
“I know how he survived, look at him,” she said. “The man could pick up a small horse and dunk it in a basketball hoop without breaking a sweat.”
Maybe a few years ago, but not now. Drago had gone to fat. No doubt, even shot, he was a formidable opponent, but not to the degree she thought.
We moved back closer to Drago. “You mentioned that we could help you get this golden doughnut,” I said. “You have something in mind, don’t you?”
Drago quit muttering. A large smile broke, filling his flat, pie-pan face. “I gotcha, don’t I? You’re gonna do it, aren’t ya?”
Marie said, “Shut up, fatso, and answer him.”
He eyed Marie a moment and said, “Your firecracker little bitch said the gold’s worth one million, one hundred and twenty thousand. You need the million. I ain’t gonna be good with no one hundred and twenty thousand for my end.”
“We don’t want any of the gold, none of it,” I said. “We told you that. The deal here is that we help you get the gold. We take that risk. In exchange, you take the risk of possibly losing the gold when we trade it for the kids. On that end your risk is much smaller. We’re dealing with one twenty-five-year-old psychotic, and not with an international urban terrorist organization. It’s a fair trade.”
Drago didn’t say anything for a minute. “Okay, deal. But when it comes to makin’ the trade-the gold for the kids-I get a say in how we handle it. You don’t just get to piss away all my gold. I get to be part of the plan.” He held out his hand. I took it and shook.
“Now, tell us this great and wonderful plan of yours,” Marie said.
Drago slid off his perch from the back of the van, keeping his weight on his good leg. He hobbled around to the passenger side of the van, opened the door, and brought the FBI bag back around. He sat in the same place and said, “With this.”
He unzipped the bag. His hand turned into a blur of speed and came out with a.40-caliber Sig Sauer pistol. He pointed it at me and smiled.
“You son of a bitch,” said Marie.
I nudged her with an elbow. “Where’d you get this language? I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, well, dipshit’s holding a gun on us and he’s going to shoot us any second now, so I think I’m entitled to use any language I want.”
“No, he’s not,” I said.
“I’m not, big man? Tell me why I’m not.”
“Because you want us to dress up like FBI agents to infiltrate the clubhouse. You need us as much as we need you. You could never pull off looking like an FBI agent. And you need a partner to make it look legit.” I’d figured out his plan as soon as he picked up the bag.
He chuckled. “That’s right.” He set the gun down on the floor beside him and pulled out a windbreaker and a vest, both dark blue with large white letters ‘FBI’ emblazoned on the front and back.
“You’re pretty smart for an Anus Africanus.”
“Don’t you call him that,” Marie said. “Next time you call him that, I’ll take you down, you understand?”
He chuckled again. This time his whole body jiggled and rolled. “Looks like the first order of business is getting ol’ Drago here some clothes.”
“Toss me that gun,” I said.
He eyed me as if trying to decide how far to push his newly found freedom. Then he picked up the gun and tossed it to me. I tossed it right back. He caught it, surprised. I took the loaded magazine out of my pocket, the one I’d taken out of the gun earlier, and tossed it to him. “The gun’s no good without bullets.”
He pointed his finger at me and smiled. He stuck the magazine back in the gun and pulled back the slide to charge the breech. “You know, I might have to change my mind about you Anus-”
“Don’t do it,” Marie said. “Don’t you say it.”
“Come on,” I said, “we have to get some clothes and make a phone call.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I moved Drago up into the front seat next to me while I waited in the Walmart parking lot for Marie. No matter how hard I tried to put the feeling out of my head, I couldn’t help but think this guy was going to make a move on me at any moment. In the front seat was bad enough; you add in leaving him unrestrained by handcuffs-that just went against the grain of twenty-five years chasing his type.
Marie carried the cash she’d brought from Costa Rica and size orders for clothes. She was also going to make a stop in the pharmacy area and pick up some supplies to treat the gunshot wound.
Having the lion sitting in the seat next to me kept my adrenaline pumping, which kept fatigue at bay, which kept my thoughts clear. Somewhat, at least.
“You know,” I said, “this gold thing changes the scenario. We aren’t going to have time to convert it to cash. I’m going to call Jonas and ask for a meet.”
“Jonas is the one? This shitass punk who took these kids?”
“That’s right.”
“Good, maybe we can get your end of the deal settled right away before we even get to mine,” Drago said.
“No, I don’t want you to do anything, and I mean nothing at all to spook him. You understand? If this goes down the way I think it will, I just want you there to verify that we’ll have the money coming, but in the form of gold. I want you to tell him the story you told us about how and what you did with the gold.”
“Let me get my hands on him. Believe me when I tell you, he’ll give up his grandma when I’m done with him.”
“No, I’ve already tried that and it didn’t work.”
“What, you think you’re me? You don’t understand-”
“I want your word you won’t try anything. This end of the deal is mine and mine alone to call.”
He looked at me for a moment and then nodded.
“No, I want to hear it. Tell me I have your word.”
“All right, ease up on it, homeboy. You got it. You have my word on it. And don’t think for a minute that I believe that you and your slit don’t want the money.”
“Her name is Marie, and you will refer to her as such, or we are going to have a big problem.”
“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha, I’m sorry. I didn’t really say it on purpose, it just comes out. It’s hard to talk different after twenty-five years in the can. You know what I’m talking about, right?”
I did know.
I hit the speed-dial number on the burner phone Jonas had given me. One ring and someone picked up. “Yeah?”
Drago leaned over to listen in, his breath sour and hot, with burnt pepperoni and kung pao chicken. I didn’t like him that close, and involuntarily tensed in anticipation of a knife slipping in between my ribs.
“It’s me,” I said.
“I know, Deputy Johnson, no one else has this number. You’re not supposed to call until you have the money. No way could you have the money, not this quick. Not unless you’re working with the Feds with a phony bag. You working with the Feds, Deputy Johnson?”
“No. And I think you know me well enough that I wouldn’t do that. All I want is to get those kids back safely. I’ll give you the money, you give me the kids, and we are done with each other.”
“Heh, heh, right. Who’s to say we’re done? What if I do this again?”
I didn’t know the answer, the one he wanted, anyway. “I guess I’ll have to deal with that problem if and when it comes up.”